


Robots In Disguise

by Beregond5



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 15:32:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11489346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beregond5/pseuds/Beregond5
Summary: Pre-Earth. The Autobots need to gain ground against the Decepticons, and the City of Vos is the key. Megatron, however, has no intention of playing fair...





	1. A Bad Battle

Even before the War, Jazz had never been a mech who was content with pushing data-work, nor did he ever have to. He had just travelled from city to city, playing his music, sing, dance… in short, be the life and soul of the party. Sure, it had been a happier, less burdensome life; but, even now that the entire planet had been caught in the storm of War and he was the third-in-command of the Autobot faction, he was still a mech who couldn’t sit and analyse odds, tactics, defences and offenses. He preferred to be out in the field, where the action was, especially if it meant teaching the Decepticons a good lesson or two. It was the reason that he had taken up the position of saboteur, other than the obvious one (being good with wiring and explosives).

For better or for worse, however, his job as a saboteur didn’t really occupy him 24/7. Most of the time, he had to spend it waiting till someone handed him a mission that actually involved blowing stuff up and, naturally, not all missions were of that nature. And today was one of those days, so Jazz had decided to make the most out of it by listening to his favourite songs at full blast. 

The door of his office swooshed open, revealing Prowl. The tactician had his hands full with datapads and carrying a business-like air, as always; but something told Jazz that Prowl hadn’t come here to just pick up Jazz’s report. Besides, even if he had only come for that…

Prowl raised an optic ridge, and he signalled to Jazz to lower the tune-player. They were not having this conversation while trying to make themselves heard over the music. 

Catching his friend’s drift, Jazz swiped his hand over the player, lowering the volume. “Better?” he asked.

“Much,” Prowl said. “Now… Should I hope you have completed your report or should I logically assume you haven’t?” 

Busted. Jazz put on his charming smile. “If it makes you feel any better, it’s perfection itself in my mind, man. I can have it ready before you say ‘Jumping metro-cats in hot-tiled roofs’!”

“Without any spelling errors this time, I trust.”

“Oh ouch, Prowl, you’re hurting my mech feelings right here, man,” Jazz said, patting his chest plate.

“You’ll live,” the tactician deadpanned. “However, asking for your report was simply an off-side request. I actually came to tell you that Prime has asked all officers to meet him in the conference room.”

Jazz frowned gently, the news catching him by surprise. “Did he say what it was about?”

Prowl’s lips tugged to a small, lopsided smile. “You know I can walk and explain at the same time, Jazz.”

“Alright, point taken and acknowledged,” the saboteur replied, rising. He swore, Prowl was just about the only mech on Cybetron who stayed gracious even when he basically said ‘Just get your exhaust port moving.’ Not that everyone picked up right up on that, in all honesty; Jazz simply knew the tactician that well. “So what’s going on, man? The Decepticons are up to their usual mischief again?”

“No, the Decepticons are only part of the equation in this case,” Prowl said as they started walking down the corridor. “It has to do with our negotiations with the city of Vos.”

Right… Jazz had been aware that the Boss Bot had been trying to convince the citizens of Vos to join the Autobot cause. He had been for so long, in fact, that the saboteur had all but forgotten about that. “Have we got a reply then?”

“No. But it seems we’re to get our answer soon enough.”

“Should I guess the answer or will I sound too pessimistic?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you pessimistic, Jazz,” Prowl said, a soft smile forming on his lip components.

“The situation is trying very hard, though,” the saboteur replied. “And, besides, I still remember Mr We-can-handle-ourselves’ attitude pretty well.” 

“The Overlord is thinking that, if he accepts an alliance with the Autobots, it will catch Megatron’s attention,” Prowl said thoughtfully. “If that is to happen, he will have to deal with the guilt and wonder whether his actions led to his people’s demise.”

“I get that, man, but this is the Big Bad we’re talking about,” Jazz pointed out. “It’s not like he needs a reason to attack, if he puts his processor into it.”

“And that is exactly what we’re trying to help him understand,” Prowl said. “And, stubborn as he may be, all we can do is keep trying. There are still others we can appeal to for help.”

“And if they don’t help out, we can always kick some Decepticon-aft to vent off some steam,” Jazz added, smiling crookedly.

“There’s that too,” the tactician said wryly and he pressed the call-button.

“Enter,” Optimus’ voice sounded, gentle yet firm as always.

Considering that their cue, Prowl and Jazz walked in, nodding in greeting in Optimus’ direction.

“Good. You’re both here,” Optimus said, his smile audible under his faceplate. “We can now begin.”

Jazz’s optics drifted to the conference table and, by the look of things, every officer was there. Trailbreaker gave a little friendly wave to the newcomers (he always was the most sociable one), whereas Ultra Magnus settled with a dignified nod. Ironhide was right next to them, his hands knitted together and his countenance quite sober but stoic. And then there was Smokescreen, one of the more recent additions in the team, seeming the epitome of relaxation as he rested his back against the chair with his legs crossed. Red Alert, on the other hand, looked anything but relaxed as his fingers gently drummed on the surface of the table.

“We should have started five breems ago,” he said.

“Don’t worry, Red. You’ll return to your duties once this meeting’s over,” Optimus replied calmly before putting his hands behind his back, getting down to business. “I do believe you all know why you’re here; you’re wondering if we can count on the city of Vos in our war against the Decepticons. The Overlord sent his answer two megacycles ago, and I’m sorry to say that he has officially denied all our offers for a beneficial alliance. He believes the City of Vos can deal with this crisis alone.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard full-out war referred to as crisis before,” Jazz pointed out wryly.

“That would be because it’s the wrong terminology for it,” Prowl deadpanned.

“So that’s it? We’re giving up on them?” Smokescreen asked, raising an optic ridge of intrigue.

“Indeed not,” Optimus said, pressing several buttons. “Hound has scouted ahead and showed us the safest route to reach the City of Vos. I’ll use it in order to get there and speak with the Overlord myself. There’s a chance I can convince him to reconsider his decision.”

“With all due respect, it’s highly unlikely, considering the Overlord’s stubborn nature,” Prowl pointed out.

“I am aware of that, Prowl, but it’s a chance that we’ll have to take, if it means helping the Autobot cause and Cybertron,” Optimus replied. 

Red Alert, however, shook his head. “I’m against it. You could be ambushed by Decepticons on the way there.”

“I know that, Red, that’s why you’re coming with me; your higher sensors will detect any danger that there could be out there. Prowl, I want you in the team as well. We need any skilful diplomat we can get.”

“Understood,” Prowl said. “And, if I may, I suggest Jazz and Ironhide to keep things running while we’re gone.”

“Agreed,” Optimus said.

“Thanks, man,” Jazz cut in, grinning.

“Aw, don’t worry, Prowl; we’ll make sure that the Decepticons stay perfect little sparklings,” Ironhide said in his familiar drawl. 

“How long are we to stay there?” Red Alert asked then.

“I can’t give you a clear answer to that, Red. Only that it’s going to be as long as necessary,” Optimus replied.

“Which could be a very long time…” Red mused, his objection quite audible. Even so, he nodded his acquiescence in the next moment. “And when are we leaving?”

“In the next few megacycles. The Decepticons have been quiet for now, so we must use this to our advantage.”

Unbeknownst to Optimus, however, three inconspicuous Decepticons had already managed to infiltrate the base. Worse, they were currently perched in a corner, under the guise of a security camera, observing and recording everything.

\----------------------------

Though things seemed quiet in the Decepticon Base from the outside, the truth was that the tension was almost stifling. Megatron ruled the faction with an iron hand, daring anyone to challenge his authority. And why would they? Every Decepticon knew better than to doubt the very mech who had united them all under a single insignia and led them from one victory to the next. That is, every Decepticon who didn’t go by the name of Starscream. Though the former scientist had proven perfectly able to climb up the ranks of the Decepticon hierarchy, it was no secret that he had managed it by manipulating, lying to and backstabbing everyone who was an obstacle on his way… and he didn’t bother hiding his true ambitions anymore. Not even from Megatron himself.

“Another quiet day of brooding, oh wise leader Megatron?” he said. “I’m sure the Autobots will appreciate the break that you’ve oh so generously given them.”

Megatron snorted from his seat, not even bothering to look away from the battle plans on his computer screen. “What you call brooding, I call planning. But I suppose that is too complicated for you to grasp, Starscream.”

“Oh, I see. You plan to bore the Autobots to death,” Starscream replied. “How didn’t I see it before, I wonder…”

Megatron decided enough was enough and whipped around, his slap practically sending Starscream flying. The air commander certainly didn’t find himself on the ground, and his pride vanished to be replaced by fear reflected in his optics.

“Your insolence is going to be your undoing one day, Starscream,” The Decepticon leader said, holding up his fusion cannon. “Especially if it outweighs your usefulness.”

“I’m still your second-in-command and air-commander of your tetrajet forces, Megatron. You need me!” Starscream said in a whine.

“Doubtful.”

But it seemed luck was on Starscream’s side that day, for it was in that very moment that sounded the familiar alarm of an incoming transmission.

“Shockwave to Megatron. Reflector reports from inside Iacon,” the one-optic’ed mech said, his form already revealed on screen.

“Has he now? Excellent,” Megatron said, lowering his fusion cannon. “It’s refreshing to know that I have useful Decepticons.” His obvious jab went unchallenged by the injured party, just as Megatron had suspected, so he considered the nuisance dealt with and focused on the matter at hand. “Show me what he’s found, Shockwave.”

“Of course, Megatron,” Shockwave replied, and the screen changed to the inside of the Autobot Base… in the middle of a meeting, no less.

“Very efficient. It seems the Autobots’ security isn’t as impenetrable as they would have us believe,” Megatron commented with a smirk. “Turn up the volume, Shockwave. Let’s listen in on them for a while.”

Shockwave complied, and Optimus Prime’s voice filled the room.

_Hound has scouted ahead and showed us the safest route to the City of Vos. I’ll use it to get there and speak with the Overlord myself._

“You’ll never get the chance, Prime,” Megatrong commented. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“This is our chance, Megatron!” Starscream exclaimed in that very moment. “We could wait for Optimus Prime and hit him on his way there!”

“And that is why you will only rule the Decepticons over my dead body, Starscream,” Megatron said. “If we ambush Prime on his way to Vos, the other Autobots will figure out we were spying on them and compromise Reflector. No… If we’re to deal with Prime, we must make our enemy believe it was a coincidence…” With that, he pressed the button to activate the communication frequencies. “Decepticons… time to pay our dear Autobots a visit.”

\----------------------------------------

The meeting had ended without much further fuss, and Jazz found himself with two options: either go back to his office and fill in his report, or go have an energon drink with some good company. Of course, when one created a mental image of the least favourite option being catapulted to infinity and beyond by the weight of the other option, well… they could hardly talk about choices, could they? Besides, Jazz knew just the ideal company for that energon. He did have to say goodbye to Prowl after all. With that in mind, Jazz grabbed a vial and two cubes, and then headed towards Prowl’s quarters. Knowing his friend, he would already be packing for the journey.

Sure enough, the first thing that Jazz noticed when the door to Prowl’s room opened were the numerous datapads that clearly contained notes about the negotiations, all spread out on his berth and, undoubtedly, in order of importance.

“Can I help you, Jazz? Prowl asked with a gentle frown upon seeing his friend.

“Yeah, you sure can,” Jazz replied, waltzing in without as much as bothering to ask for permission, and held up the vial. “You can help me empty this.”

The tactician let out a soft huff. “Jazz, I need to get ready for the trip.”

“The trip is in two megacycles, you have plenty of time.”

“Not when I have to make sure I’ve got--”

“-Everything?” Jazz cut in. “Come on, man, making yourself crazy won’t help. Just take a quick breem, have a drink, and then I’ll go. I’ve seen you handle yourself in more stressful conditions than that.”

Prowl’s gaze drifted between Jazz and the vial for a few astroseconds, pondering his options; but he finally reached for one of the cubes with a look of wry amusement.

“Perhaps you should go negotiate with the Overlord. You’d have him wrapped around your little finger at ‘Hello’.”

“Well, thanks but… as good as I am, I’m not that good,” Jazz said with a chuckle. He sat down and filled both cubes with the fluorescent liquid. “Cheers, Prowl.”

Prowl lifted his own cube graciously, and they both had their first sip.

“Oh, almost forgot,” Jazz said then, catching the second berth from the corner of his eye. “Shall we save some for your roommate?”

The tactician nodded. “He’ll appreciate it. And, please, look after him while I’m gone, will you?”

“Sure thing,” Jazz said. “When does his patrol end?”

“Should be soon enough, provided the team doesn’t--”

Prowl never got he chance to complete his sentence, for it was in that very moment that alarms bellowed at full volume. The two Autobots immediately exchanged a glance, the same grim look on their features.

“Just when we thought the Decepticons decided to go on vacation…”

Prowl nodded, setting the cube aside in a smooth motion. “We’d better check it out.”

“Right behind you,” Jazz said, downing his energon in a single gulp, and he followed the tactician out the door and straight to the control room. Optimus Prime and the rest of the officers were already there, assessing the situation. And, unfortunately, by the look of things, said situation was bad.

“Somebody must have let the Decepticons know we were bored,” Smokescreen deadpanned.

“There’s no use complaining about it,” Optimus replied, already grabbing his rifle. “The eastern perimeter must be protected at all costs. Autobots, roll out!”

No one needed to be told twice. Once everyone was in their vehicle modes, they followed Optimus outside at full throttle towards the eastern perimeter of the city. Even so, by the time they had arrived at the scene of the attack, the battle was already raging on. Jazz caught sight of Windcharger and Cliffjumper pinned down, doing their best to at least cover Brawn and the Twins, who were wreaking havoc in the enemy lines. Ratchet, on the other hand, was doing his best to treat Grapple, which wasn’t the easiest thing to do while trying to avoid getting hit by a stray blast.

“Yo, doc, heads up! Reinforcements are here!” the saboteur said, transforming and rushing to Ratchet’s side to offer him backup.

“Not to sound ungrateful, but you folks took your sweet time,” Ratchet said gruffly, not bothering to look up.

“Aw, you know what they say: better late than never,” Jazz countered, cocking his gun and firing.

“If Grapple were conscious, he would have something else to say about that... Primus, frag it all!” A blast barely missed the medic, something that had him more than just a little seething. He grabbed his gun and, one well-aimed shot later, the tetrajet came crashing down. “Can you keep these goons away from me already?”

“We’re on it,” Jazz said, rather glad that Ratchet was on their side. Sure enough, Trailbreaker was already using his force-field to protect the pinned down Autobots, while Optimus separated into his three components, his anti-aerial unit firing at the Decepticons flying above them.

-Prowl to Jazz, - the tactician’s voice sounded then in the secret frequency. – Do you read, Jazz?-

-Loud and clear, buddy, - Jazz said. - You in trouble?-  
\- No, but you will be. Three, left flank. – 

Realising what Prowl was telling him, Jazz took out a grenade out of subspace and threw it at the three Decepticons that were stealthily approaching him. The grenade landed among them, causing them to run as far away from the radius of the blast as fast as possible.

-Thanks, bud,- Jazz said.

-No problem. Help Ratchet get Grapple away from the line of fire.-

-As long as we somehow get to avoid them firing on us, sure! Got any ideas?-

“I have one,” another voice interjected and, to Jazz’s surprise, Smokescreen appeared, his engine revving. “And that’s living up to my name.” Before the saboteur even had the chance to utter a word, the newcomer had already driven off, a puff of smoke covering everything.

“I hate show-offs,” Ratchet said with a long-suffering sigh.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, Ratch,” Jazz pointed out. “Now come on, let’s haul aft out of here!” But, just before he could grip Grapple from the shoulders, another transmission rang through the secret frequency, sending a chill down every Autobot’s spinal axis.

-This is Ultra Magnus. Optimus Prime is down. Repeat, Optimus Prime is down.-


	2. An Idea

As the Autobot tactician, Prowl’s official thesis considering the battle was ‘tactical mayhem’. However, Prowl could only agree with the term that Jazz used to describe everything that happened just megacycles ago: Fragged Up Beyond All Reason, or else known as FUBAR. And, unfortunately, Red Alert wasn’t making things any easier the way he paced the medbay up and down, muttering under his breath.

“This should never have happened! Prime should never have been left exposed like that! The Decepticons knew exactly what they were doing and now we’re paying the price!”

“A lot of things shouldn’t have happened, but that is neither here nor there,” Prowl said patiently, yet firmly, before returning his attention to Ratchet. “How bad is it?”

Ratchet let out a soft sigh. “Well, it’s not bad, but it’s not good either.”

“Please, explain.”

“No vital parts have been destroyed, but the damage is extensive nonetheless,” the medic answered. “Most fried cables have been replaced, but there are plenty of circuits that have to be rebuilt from scratch. And, joy of joys, since we’re at war, most parts are almost impossible to find at such short notice.”

“Just give us an estimate, Ratchet.”

Ratchet let out another sigh. “Best case? About a mooncycle.”

Prowl winced inwardly. “You realise that Prime had scheduled to meet with the Overlord for negotiations.”

“Yes, I do, and it doesn’t change my estimate in the least,” the medic replied. “As much as I’d like to help, Prime will have to stay here, so I’ll be able to take care of him. Okay?”

Prowl raised his hands in an appeasing manner. “Okay.”

“I wouldn’t allow anyone to go anyway,” Red Alert cut in in that moment. “If the Decepticons managed to pull off an assault like that now, they can pull off an ambush on our way to the City of Vos.”

“Yes… quite convenient, if you ask me,” a voice sounded then, snapping them out of their grim conversation. Prowl, Ratchet and Red turned around and saw Smokescreen leaning against the door in a relaxed, almost nonchalant manner. 

“I believe I told you to find Trailbreaker to discuss defences,” Prowl said, raising an optic ridge.

“No worries. Trailbreaker is on it as we speak,” Smokescreen said.

“And you aren’t with him because…?” Prowl said.

“Because there are things that bother me about the attack and I’d like to share my thoughts with you two.”

“What are they?” Red asked.

“Well, whatever they are, you can discuss them elsewhere,” Ratchet said. “My job is already hard enough without conversations going on over my head.”

“Of course, doctor,” Smokescreen said charmingly, and then looked back at Prowl and Red. “Shall we?”

Prowl supposed that there was nothing more either he or Red could do in the medbay – except perhaps aggravate Ratchet further, which was a bad idea – so he nodded his acquiescence. With a ‘keep me posted’ Parthian shot in the medic’s direction, he followed Smokescreen outside with Red following close behind. 

“Right. What did you want to talk about, Smokescreen?” the tactician asked once he deemed they were able to speak more openly.

“First things first,” Smokescreen said. “Here’s a quick question in your direction, Prowl. You’ve seen me play holo-cards. Why do I always win?”

“That’s easy,” Prowl said, the doors behind his back stiffening. Not because he was against the games themselves; a little bit of fun and relaxation was good for morale, after all. Prowl simply drew a line to the way Smokescreen played. “You cheat.”

“Pardon me, but I don’t see how bragging about your gambling achievements has anything to do with the real problem at hand,” Red intervened, his impatience quite audible.

“It has everything to do with it,” Smokescreen replied, hardly fazed and walking on as if he was out on a casual stroll. “Think about it. If I cheat in a simple game of holo-cards in order to win, what’s stopping the Decepticons from cheating so that they win the war?” 

Prowl pursed his lips thoughtfully. “You’re saying we’re being spied on.”

“You bet your exhaust port I do.”

“Hold on,” Red said. “I check everything personally. There’s no possible way someone or something penetrated my security system without me knowing.”

“So you prefer to believe that it was one heck of a coincidence that the Decepticons attacked our base and injured Prime on the very day he decided to go to the City of Vos for negotiations?” Smokescreen countered. “I know you, Red; and I know that this answer isn’t sitting well with you. So let’s see if we can find the truth, okay?” 

“If we’re to follow your thread of thought, then we should start from the conference room,” Prowl suggested. “It’s where Prime first announced his plans.”

“I knew you’d see it my way,” Smokescreen said with the kind of grin someone had when they had a full house in their hand.

\--------------------------------

The door to the conference room opened with a gentle swooshing sound, and the three Autobots walked in, their gaze drifting in every direction as they tried to pick up anything that wasn't right about the room.

“Any idea what it is we're looking for?” Red Alert asked.

“Some idea, yes,” Smokescreen replied.

“That's hardly reassuring,” Prowl deadpanned. Worse, doubts started crawling in the tactician's mind, even as he kept looking. If there had been a perpetrator before, was it possible that they had managed to sneak away in the meantime? And if they had, could it be that they were beyond the Autobots' reach by now?

“Oh, we'll find them. They didn't go far,” Smokescreen said as if he had read Prowl's thoughts. “This kind of success is bound to make them stay put. They are so proud at their accomplishment that they now consider themselves invisible, out of danger. Or at least they did consider themselves invisible until we came along. Three Autobots coming here, talking loudly about a spy? That's not good at all...” A grin formed on Smokescreen's lip components. “They aren't as comfortable now. But, they figure, perhaps they don't know of them yet. Perhaps they'll deem that there's nothing here and just move along to the next room...”

“Wait an astrosecond!” Red Alert said in that very moment, cutting in. “I installed six cameras, and there are seven!”

“Seven?” Prowl instantly grabbed his rifle and cocked it in the direction Red was pointing. Not a moment too soon, for it was in that very moment that the 'camera' sprang to life. Except it wasn't just one Decepticon as he had expected, but three, each one a different component of their disguise.

“Red, the door!” Smokescreen cried.

Red didn't have to be told twice. He was already hurrying towards the door, trying not to think of the laserfire aimed in his direction, and activated the security lockdown. The three Decepticons were now officially trapped; even so, they didn't intend to go down without a fight. Taking advantage of their size and swiftness, all three lunged at their captors, aiming for whatever part they could get their hands – and legs – on.

“Oh no you don't!” Prowl declared, doing his best to shake off one of the Decepticons, who had grabbed hold of his arm. Worse, a second one had latched onto the tactician's leg, his fists hitting the plating viciously.

“Incoming!”

Prowl froze, his battle computer warning him what was coming next. Sure enough, Smokescreen used his rifle to swing and hit the Decepticon that was hanging from the tactician's arm, sending him flying. It wasn't a lethal hit, by any means, but it had an unexpected result. The other two instantly keeled over, wincing. As momentary as that pause was, it was enough for the three Autobots to react and neutralise them.

“Phew... short, but effective rascals,” Smokescreen commented.

“I'd rather they were talkative,” Prowl said dryly, making sure the stasis-cuffs were in place and secure. “You hurt, Red?”

“Let me put it this way. There are three Decepticons who got through my security system,” Red replied with a wry sigh.

“You'll live,” Smokescreen said, putting his gun back in subspace.

“Sure, make light of it,” Red replied. “So... how did you know they were here?”

Smokescreen grinned. “I didn't.”

Red Alert’s optics widened, his incredulity obvious. “Then how did you…?”

“Psychological warfare,” the blue mech replied, as if it were simplicity itself. “I started talking vaguely about someone watching, someone being nervous… and they just allowed themselves to believe that not only did I know they were in the room, but even how many they were.”

“Which makes me wonder what would have happened if you were wrong,” Prowl said, already pressing the emergency frequency button to bring back-up.

“Ah, but I wasn’t.”

“Convenient,” Red dead-panned.

Smokescreen shrugged. “Bluffs are legible tricks.”

“I worry about the mechs playing holo-cards with you,” Prowl replied. In that moment, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker appeared in the now-unlocked door, and they took in the scene before them with quite the interest.

“Oh, new Decepticons!” Sideswipe said, his face lighting up. “Can I use them for target practice?”

“No. Carrying them to the brig will suffice, thank you,” Prowl said in a tone that signified that he wasn’t in the mood for fun and games. “Now get on with it.”

Sideswipe sighed melodramatically, nevertheless, he did as he was told. Maybe he’d have his fun later…

\---------------------------------

Prowl was the first to enter the brig, unlocking it with his own personal password, and he beckoned the Twins to follow him with the prisoners inside.

“Seat them inside the first cell,” he instructed. “Gently.”

It turned out that it had been a good thing specifying the particular order, because the Twins were only borderline gentle in their treatment of the Decepticon prisoners as they settled them down. Prowl frowned in their direction, giving them his best 'Was that really necessary?' look.

“What? You don't see them complaining,” Sideswipe said.

“Irrelevant,” Prowl pointed out. “Stay outside. Should anything happen and they attempt to get out...”

“We know: scrap them,” Sunstreaker replied, and he all but dragged his brother out.   
That, Prowl supposed, was his cue to see what the three Decepticons had to say. And, in a rare chance of good timing, the very mechs themselves started stirring awake. The tactician couldn't help but watch in grim pleasure as the three small prisoners jumped, realisation sinking in, and then throw themselves at the energy bars.

“Don't bother, they won't budge. And even at the off chance that they do, you'll be shot down before you make it three steps out of here,” Prowl said neutrally. 

“We've got nothing to say to you!” one of the Decepticons replied.

“Your empty words don't scare us!” the second one added.

“You may have caught us, but you haven't defeated us,” the third said.

“Don't think that Megatron is coming for you. You're both expendable and easily replaceable. The best you can hope for is that you don't have to spend the rest of the war locked up in here.”

“Do you think we wouldn't be here if we didn't know the risks?” the first one said, eyeing Prowl. “We knew what we were signing up for, Autobot.”

“We're not going to help you when you're already fighting a lost cause,” the third said.

“The war isn't over yet.”

“Oh, it is. You simply don't know it.”

“Explain yourself,” Prowl said, stiffening.

“Megatron knew about your plans. He knows what you hope to do. And he knew just how to cut your hopes right at the bud,” the first Decepticon said. “Even if your precious leader survives, he won't recover fast enough to gain the allies he wants. Megatron is already on his way to the City of Vos to forge an alliance for himself – whether it's going to be the easy or the hard way.”

Prowl pursed his lip components. “You're bluffing.”

“And that is why you'll always fail. While you stand idly, putting faith in a world that you believe is black and white, Megatron shapes the world the way he wants to. The Overlord will see that, one way or another, and he will follow, just like everyone else. Well... except the mechs that prefer to block their audios and optics and live in denial. And for that... you have our sympathy.”

If it had been any other mech, the Decepticons would have been rewarded with a well-weighed punch on their faceplate and get knocked out cold. Prowl, however, simply nodded, his features the epitome of calmness. 

“Thank you for your cooperation. Try and enjoy your stay – if you truly can, confined in these four walls.”

And with that, the tactician exited, his stride brisk and proud. It was only when the door slid closed behind him that he allowed himself to exhale a deep breath in an attempt to weather the storm raging inside him.

“That bad?” Smokescreen's familiar voice sounded in the next moment. 

Prowl looked up. The mech himself was standing at the end of the corridor, not seeming bothered in the least, if his relaxed posture as he leaned against the wall was any indication.

“Complicated, more like.”  
“Ah... Which means serious enough.”

Prowl decided honesty was the best policy, so he nodded. “Summon the others. We need to discuss our next course of action.”

“Sure thing,” Smokescreen replied, already activating his communicator.

\--------------------------------

The Autobot officers gathered in the conference room, quietly talking amidst themselves and wondering what the meaning of this meeting was. They were already aware of Optimus Prime’s injuries, and they all hoped that it wasn’t any more bad news coming their way. However, their hopes were all for naught.

“Red, there are six cameras this time around. You can sit down,” Smokescreen said, regarding the security chief in an almost sympathetic manner. Red Alert was indeed busy examining every camera closely, even running scans over them more than just once.

“I’m not taking any more chances,” was all that Red replied, optics still locked on his scanner.

“Red, it doesn’t matter anymore,” Prowl said. “The Decepticons did enough damage.”

“Uh oh… That doesn’t sound good,” Jazz commented, sitting down to his familiar place next to the tactician. 

“Indeed, it’s not,” Prowl said. “Ultra Magnus, Trailbreaker, Ironhide, please sit down. This won't take long.” 

“How’s Optimus Prime?” Ultra Magnus asked.

“He’s going to make it, which is fortunate, under the circumstances,” Prowl answered. “However, he won’t be able to make a full recovery on time. Worse, Megatron already intends to get to the City of Vos first and force the Overlord into submission. It’s already been confirmed by our current Decepticon POWs in the brig.” 

“Decepticons? Here?” Ironhide said, hands already clenching into fists. “Give me five astroseconds with them; that’s all I need!” 

“Right now, you are needed here; we have bigger problems,” Prowl replied firmly.   
Ironhide growled softly, nevertheless nodded his acquiescence.

“Are we sure about this kind of info?” Ultra Magnus said. “Just because they said it, it doesn’t necessarily mean that they aren’t lying to shake us.”

“Megatron has already orchestrated Prime’s incapacitation to delay us. There’s no reason he won’t move towards the City of Vos to beat us to the punch,” Prowl said. “It’s… too good an opportunity to pass up.” 

“Okay, so… What do we do now?” Trailbreaker asked.

“Surely we’ll need to tell the Overlord that Megatron is on his way?” Jazz said then.

“I’ve tried contacting him; there’s been no response.”

“Interference?” Red Alert asked, stiffening.

“No… We’re being ignored,” Prowl said. “Apparently, the Overlord considers the matter over and has no wish to deal with the Autobot faction any further.” 

“...Forget Megatron, the Overlord is doing a fine job burying himself deeper in slag without anyone’s help,” Jazz commented.

“As true as that statement is, it doesn’t change the fact that we need to accept that the City of Vos is beyond our help,” Prowl said. 

“What do you suggest?” Ultra Magnus said.

“The only thing I can. There are other cities to which we can appeal. We must turn our attention to them, before Megatron does.”

“Good idea, except for one thing, man,” Jazz said. “The rest of the leaders are just as indecisive, waiting to see what the Overlord will do. If they hear that he's in negotiations with Megatron, there's no way they'll risk getting in trouble by talking to us.”

“I have already considered that. However, the alternative is simply sit here and do nothing more than stay hauled up in Iacon; not a welcome option.”

“Agreed,” Ultra Magnus said. “The question now is, which city we should approach.”

“There are several that spring to mind. We can approach them one by one, or go to several and see what petrofish we catch,” the tactician replied. “However, since we're already pressed for time, I believe the latter is the best option.”

“But we won't be just sending envoys, not after what's happened to Prime. They'll need soldiers escorting them and that means spreading our forces too thin,” Red pointed out. “As hard pressed as we are, I'd rather we did things right, not fast.”

“We're not defenceless, Red.”

“Need I remind you that our security system got compromised just a few megacycles ago?”

Prowl never got the chance to answer, for it was in that very moment that the doors of the council room swooshed open, revealing a very agitated Bluestreak. The young mech had all but charged in, only to stop on his tracks when he noticed more than a pair of optics staring at him in surprise. He lowered his gaze and started wringing his hands in a nervous manner and his voice was barely above a murmur as he started speaking 

“I... uh, sorry, I... didn't realise that you were in the middle of a meeting. If I did, I would have just waited outside, I just didn't find you in your office when I heard about the attack and so I asked Windcharger, and Windcharger said that you would be here, except he wouldn't tell me if you had got hurt or not, because he hadn't seen you at all and that had me worried and I got here as fast as I could to see if you were okay and you look like you are... if only annoyed at me for barging in so I should just go...”

“Bluestreak, breathe,” Prowl cut in firmly.

A small pause later, Bluestreak took a deep breathe as instructed, even though his agitation didn't lessen in the least. 

“All of you, please excuse me for a few astroseconds,” the tactician said, getting up, and he gently guided Bluestreak outside the room.

“I didn't mean to barge in like that...” Bluestreak said weakly, “I just...”

“Hey,” Prowl gently tapped the young one's chin to prod his gaze upwards. “I'm fine. I'm not hurt.”

Bluestreak looked at him up and down and nodded. “Is what they say true? Is Prime really hurt?”

“That he is,” Prowl replied. “But he's not beyond recovery. Only the Decepticons like to think so. He'll be leading us and fighting Megatron again in no time. Okay?”

That finally seemed to appease the young sniper, as his lips components tugged to a small, soft smile. “Okay.”

Prowl nodded, considering that matter taken care of. “Good. Did you have any energon?”

Bluestreak shook his head weakly.

“Go have some. I'll catch up with you once the meeting here is over,” Prowl promised.

Bluestreak nodded and trotted away, albeit reluctantly. It was obvious he had wanted to stay a bit longer and, under any other circumstances, Prowl would have allowed it. Right now, though, it was a luxury he couldn't afford. With that in mind, he headed back into the council room, only to realise that Smokescreen was regarding him quite closely and even with some... intrigue.

“Was that your brother?”

Prowl frowned. “No... Why?”

“The resemblance is uncanny.”

“Well... we're not,” the tactician said. “Now, Red, as for your argument...”

“Actually...” Smokescreen said, raising a hand. “I don't think contacting the other cities will be all that necessary.”

The other Autobots looked at him as if he had suddenly grown a second head.

“You... don't?” Prowl said dubiously.

“No,” Smokescreen said. “In fact, I have an idea.”

\---------------------------

Prowl stared at Smokescreen for several moments, unsure if he had heard said idea correctly. Because, frankly, it was a miracle that his logic circuits hadn’t fried right then and there.

“You must be joking,” Ironhide said, promptly voicing Prowl’s thoughts to a tee.

“Actually, I’m quite serious,” the Smokescreen replied. 

“You want Ultra Magnus, Bluestreak and Sideswipe to take Optimus’, mine and Red Alert’s places and head into the City of Vos?” said the weapons specialist.

“Well… yes.” 

“As flattered as I am that you’re showing such trust in my abilities, Smokescreen, I’m hardly a diplomat,” Ultra Magnus intervened in that moment. “I can’t negotiate with Overlord.”

“Not to mention the risk that Ultra Magnus, Sideswipe and Bluestreak will be taking,” Prowl pointed out. Whoever was sent to the City of Vos would be away from any Autobot help, especially if such a ruse were to be discovered. He wasn’t putting them through that.

“And Sideswipe impersonating me? I’m already shuddering just thinking about it,” Red Alert said mournfully.

“Settle down, gentlemechs, and just hear me out,” Smokescreen said, raising his hands in an appeasing manner. “At the moment, Megatron thinks he’s got the upper hand on us, that with Optimus Prime out of the picture he can get his hands on the City of Vos. The Overlord can think that by staying neutral he’s stopped the enemy from coming knocking at his door; but, the truth of the matter is, he’s now in more danger than ever. We have to give Megatron any kind of pause and, right now, making him believe that his plans failed is the best way to do that.” 

“Need I remind you that the Overlord has already refused any further contact with our faction?” Prowl pointed out.

“Except the Overlord doesn’t know that the rules of the game changed,” Smokescreen said. “If we approach him with the intention of warning him that he’s not as safe as he believes, we give ourselves an opening to restart negotiations.” 

Prowl considered the matter carefully. There were dangers, the officers had already pointed them out – even he had voiced his own objections on the matter. And yet, Smokescreen also made his case clearly. After the outcome of the battlefield and with Optimus in the medbay in such a serious condition, Megatron would certainly not pass up the chance to get his hands on the City of Vos, using whatever means possible. As stubborn as the Overlord was, the innocent people of the City didn’t have to pay for it.

However, if they were to go through with this charade... he’d rather they did so with some minor changes. As eager as Bluestreak would be to help out, he was too inexperienced for this sort of thing. What was needed was a mech who thought quickly on his feet and charm his way out of a situation, if need be. And he knew just the one.

“Smokescreen, you also bear some resemblance with me. You shall take Bluestreak’s place in your plan.”

Smokescreen’s optics widened in mild surprise, but then the mech nodded his understanding. “I look awful in black and white, but I suppose I can take one for the team,” he said with a grin. 

“Thank you. I’ll contact Sideswipe and we’ll continue this discussion in the privacy of my office. Ultra Magnus.”

“Understood. I’ll see you there,” the large mech replied.

Prowl nodded. “Does anybody else want to add anything?”

There was silence for a few brief moments.

“Very well. We’ll meet again for a debriefing in two megacycles. For now, dismissed.” 

Everyone nodded their understanding and got up, already heading for the exit. Even so, Jazz seemed like he wanted to say something else – and it was for particulaar audios alone.

“So... You sure about this plan, guys?” he asked as soon as it was just Prowl, Smokescreen and himself in the room.

Prowl let out a soft sigh. “I’d be lying if I said that there aren’t any risks. However, Smokescreen has a point. If Megatron believes he’s succeeded, then he might get bold enough to go for the City of Vos – and he will have the city, one way or another. Overlord needs to be aware of that and act accordingly - ideally, by offering his alliance to the Autobot faction.”

“And if he refuses to listen to reason again?” the saboteur said.

“Then the matter is out of our servos, I fear. And we lose another city to the Decepticons.”

“Yeah, not promising prospect that,” Jazz admitted. “I guess that’s one more reason we shouldn’t fail.”

“Indeed,” Prowl replied, and he activated his communicator to summon Sideswipe.


End file.
